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I know a spell that will soon dispossess
Their little army faithful to its duty, The evil spirit in him.
And daily it becomes more numerous.
Nor can he take us by surprise : you know
Whate'er he does, is mine, even while 't is doing0! this is worse, far worse, than we had suffer'd
No step so small, but instantly I hear it;
Yea, his own mouth discloses it.
"Tis quite The man all-powerful in his camp Here, here,
Incomprehensible, that he detects not *T is quite another thing.
The foe so near!
Beware, you do not think,
Hypocrisy, have skulked into his graces :
Or with the substance of smooth professions
Nourish his all-confiding friendship! No-
Compellid alike by prudence, and that duty Which you deliver to me from the Court.
Which we all owe our country, and our sovereign, The least suspicion of the General
To hide my genuine feelings from him, yet Costs me my freedom and my life, and would
Ne'er have I duped him with base counterfeits ! But hasten his most desperate enterprise.
It is the visible ordinance of Heaven.
And links him both to me and to my son.
And all those many and various incidents
Had bound us long and early to each other-
His heart rose on me, and his confidence
Shot out in sudden growth. It was the morning We're arming for the war? That he has taken
Before the memorable fight at Lutzner. These, the last pledges of his loyalty,
Urged by an ugly dream, I sought him out, Away from out the Emperor's domains
To press him to accept another charger. This is no doubtful token of the nearness
At distance from the tents, beneath a tree, Of sone eruption!
I found him in a sleep. When I had waked him
And had related all my bodings to him,
Long time he stared upon me, like a man
You lead your son into the secret?
What! and not warn him either what bad hands Loosen'd, and rent asunder from the state
His lot has placed him in?
I must perforce
Leave him in wardship to his innocence.
His young and open soul-dissimulation
Is foreign to its habits ! Ignorance Men's words are ever bolder than their deeds :
Alone can keep alive the cheerful air, And many a resolute, who now appears
The unembarrass'd sense and light free spirit, Made up to all extremes, will, on a sudden
That make the Duke secure.
of Colonel Piccolomini-yet-ifCounts Altringer and Galas have maintain'd Reflect a little
OCTAVIO (to QUESTENBERG).
Hush! Suppress it, friend! Hush !There he comes !
Unless some end were answer'd by the utterance
In their distress Max. PICCOLOMINI, OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, They call a spirit up, and when he comes, QUESTENBERG.
Straight their flesh creeps and quivers, and they
dread him Ha! there he is himself. Welcome, my father!
More than the ills for which they call'd him up. (He embraces his father. As he turns round, he The uncommon, the sublime, must seem and be observes QUESTENBERG, and draws back with Ay, there ihe Present Being makes itself felt
Like things of every day.—But in the field, a cold and reserved air.
The personal must command, the actual eye You are engaged, I see. I'll not disturb you.
Examine. If to be the chieftain asks
All that is great in nature, let it be How, Max.? Look closer at this visitor.
Likewise his privilege to move and act Attention, Max., an old friend merits-Reverence In all the correspondencies of greatness. Belongs of right to the envoy of your sovereign. The oracle within him, that which lives, MAX. (drily).
He must invoke and questionnot dead books,
My son! of those old narrow ordinances
Let us not hold too lightly. They are weights Your hand away, Count Piccolomini !
Of priceless value, which oppress'd mankind Not on mine own account alone I seized it,
Tied to the volatile will of their oppressors. And nothing common will I say therewith.
For always formidable was the league [Taking the hands of both. And partnership of free power with free will. Octavio-Max. Piccolomini!
The way of ancient ordinance, though it winds, O savior names, and full of happy omen!
Is yet no devious way. Straight forward goes Ne'er will her prosperous genius turn from Austria, The lightning's path, and straight the fearful path While two such stars, with blessed influences
of the cannon-ball. Direct it flies and rapid, Beaming protection, shine above her hosts.
Shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it MAX.
reaches. Heh!Noble minister! You miss your part. My son! the road, the human being travels, You came not here to act a panegyric.
That, on which BLESSING comes and goes, doth follow You 're gent, I know, to find fault and to scold us The river's course, the valley's playful windings, I must not be beforehand with my comrades. Curves round the corn-field and the hill of vines, OCTAVIO (to Max.).
Honoring the holy bounds of property! He comes from court, where people are not quite
And thus secure, though late, leads to its end. So well contented with the Duke, as here.
QUESTENBERG. What now have they contrived to find out in him?
O hear your father, noble youth! hear him, That he alone deterinines for himself
Who is at once the hero and the man.
My son, the nursling of the camp spoke in thee!
A war of fifteen years
Hath been thy education and thy school.
Peace hast thou never witness'd! There exists
A higher than the warrior's excellence.
In war itself war is no ultimate purpose.
The vast and sudden deeds of violence,
Adventures wild, and wonders of the moment, And well for us it is so! There exist Few fit to rule themselves, but few that use
These are not they, my son, that generate Their intellects intelligently. Then
The Calm, the Blissful, and the enduring Mighty! Well for the whole, if there be found a man,
Lo there! the soldier, rapid architect ! Who makes himself what nature destined him,
Builds his light town of canvas, and at once The pause, the central point to thousand thousands
The whole scene moves and bustles momently, Stands fix'd and stately, like a firin-built column,
With arms, and neighing steeds, and mirth and quarrel. Where all may press with joy and confidence.
The motley market fills; the roads, the streams Now such a man is Wallenstein; and if
Are crowded with new freights, trade stirs and hurries! Another better snits the court-no other
But on some morrow morn, all suddenly, But such a one as he can serve the army
The tents drop down, the horde renews its march
Dreary, and solitary as a church-yard
The meadow and down-trodden seed-plot lie
And the year's harvest is gone utterly
The joyous vespers of a bloody day. O let the Emperor make peace, my father! O happy man, O fortunate! for whom Most gladly would I give the blood-stain'd laurel The well-known door, the faithful arms are open, For the first violet * of the leafless spring,
The faithful tender arms with mute embracing. Pluck'd in those quiet fields where I have journey'd !
QUESTENBERG (apparently much affected). OCTAVIO.
0! that you should speak What ails thee? What so moves thee all at once?
Of such a distant, distant time, and not
morrow, not of this to-day. Peace have I ne'er beheld ? I have beheld it.
MAX (turning round to him, quick and vehement). From thence am I come hither : 0! that sight,
Where lies the fault but on you in Vienna ! It glimmers still before me, like some landscape
I will deal openly with you, Questenberg. Left in the distance,—some delicious landscape!
Just now, as first I saw you standing here, My road conducted me through countries where
(I'll own it to you freely) indignation The war has not yet reach'd. Life, life, my father Crowded and press'd my inmost soul together. My venerable father, Life has charms
"Tis ye that hinder peace, ye!-and the warrior, Which we have ne'er experienced. We have been It is the warrior that must force it from you. But voyaging along its barren coasts,
Ye fret the General's life out, blacken him, Like some poor ever-roaming horde of pirates,
Hold him up as a rebel, and Heaven knows That, crowded in the rank and narrow ship,
What else still worse, because he spares the Saxons, House on the wild sea with wild usages,
And tries to awaken confidence in the enemy; Nor know aught of the main land, but the bays
Which yet is the only way to peace : for if Where safeliest they may venture a thieves' landing. War intermit not during war, how then Whale'er in the inland dales the land conceals
And whence can peace come ?—Your own plagues Of fair and exquisite, O! nothing, nothing,
fall on you! Do we behold of that in our rude voyage.
Even as I love what's virtuous, hate I you.
And here make I this vow, here pledge mysell; OCTAVIO (attentive, with an appearance of My blood shall spurt out for this Wallenstein, uneasiness).
And my heart drain off, drop by drop, ere ye And -80 your journey has reveal'd this to you? Shall revel and dance jubilee o'er his ruin.
"I was the first leisure of my life. O tell me, What is the meed and purpose of the toil,
SCENE V. The painful toil, which robb'd me of my youth,
QUESTENBERG, Octavio PiccolOMINI.
[Then in pressing and impatient lones. The unvaried, still returning hour of duty,
What, friend! and do we let him go away Word of command, and exercise of arms
In this delusion—let him go away? There's nothing here, there's nothing in all this
Not call him back immediately, not open To satisfy the heart, the gasping heart!
His eyes upon the spot? Mere bustling nothingness, where the soul is not OCTAVIO (recovering himself out of a deep study). This cannot be the sole felicity,
Ile has now open 'd mine, These cannot be man's best and only pleasures ! And I see more than pleases me.
What is it? Much hast thou learnt, my son, in this short journey.
Curse on this journey! 0! day thrice lovely! when at length the soldier Returns home into life; when he becomes
But why so? What is it? A fellow-man among his fellow-men.
OCTAVIO. The colors are unfurl'd, the cavalcade
Come, come along, friend! I must follow up Marshals, and now the buzz is hush'd, and hark!
The ominous track immediately. Mine eyes Now the soft peace-marcha beats, home, brothers, home! Are open'd now, and I must use them. Come ! The caps and helmets are all garlanded
[Draws QUESTENBERG on with him. With green boughs, the last plundering of the fields.
What now? Where go you then?
To her herself. Kicies and welcomings upon the air, Which they make breezy with atfectionate gestures.
ТоFrom all the lowers rings out the merry peal, OCTAVIO (interrupting him, and correcting himself).
To the Duke. Come, let us go—"Tis done, 't is done, * In the original,
I see the net that is thrown over him.
Oh! he returns not to me as he went.
Nay, but explain yourself.
The five is the first number that's made up
Ey! let him alone though. I like to hear him; But what's too late? Bethink yourself, my friend,
there is more in his words than can be seen at first That you are talking absolute riddles to me. sight.
OCTAVIO (more collected).
Off, they come.
SECOND SERVANT. Which he appointed you for audience. Come!
There! at the side-door. A curse, a threefold curse, upon this journey! (He leads QUESTENBERG off.
[They hurry off. SENI follows slowly. A Page
brings the staff of command on a red cushion,
wings of the door fly open.
WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS. somewhat fantastically. He carrier a white staff, with which he marks out the quarters of the heaven. You went then through Vienna, were presented
To the Queen of Hungary? Come to it, lads, to it! Make an end of it. I hear
DUCHESS. the sentry call out, “Stand to your arms !" They will
Yes; and to the Empress too, be there in a minute.
And by both Majesties were we admitted
To kiss the hand.
WALLENSTEIN. would be held here? Nothing prepared—no orders
And how was it received, -no instructions
That I had sent for wife and daughter hither
To the camp, in winter-time?
DUCHESS. manded, that with the great worked carpet ?—there
I did even that one can look about one.
Which you commission'd me to do. I told them, FIRST SERVANT.
You had determined on our daughter's marriage,
To show the elected husband his betrothed.
DUCHESS. signify in the affair ?
They only hoped and wish'd it may have fallen SENI (with gravity).
Upon no foreign nor yet Lutheran noble. My son, there's nothing insignificant,
WALLENSTEIN. Nothing ! But yet in every earthly thing
And you—what do you wish, Elizabeth ?
Your will, you know, was always mine.
WALLENSTEIN (after a pause).
Well then! SENI (counts the chairs, half in a loud, half in a low And in all else, of what kind and complexion
voice, till he comes to eleven, which he repeats). Was your reception at the court? Eleven! an evil number! Set twelve chairs
(The DUCHESS casts her eyes on the ground, and Twelve! twelve signs hath the zodiac : five and seven,
remains silent. The holy numbers, include themselves in twelve. Hide nothing from mo. How were you received ! SECOND SERVANT.
A canker-worm, my Lord, a canker-worm
Has stolen into the bud. Eleven is transgression; eleven oversteps
Ay! is it so ?
What, they were lax ? they fail'd of the old respect? That's good! and why do you call five a holy
Not of respect. No honors were omitted,
No outward courtesy ? but in the place Five is the soul of man : for even as man
Of condescending, confidential kindness, Is mingled up of good and evil, so
Familiar and endearing, there were given me
Only these honors and that solemn courtesy.
Proceed! Count Harrach's noble daughter, should not som
duct, They rail'd at it, no doubt.
Of a second catches her voice and hesitates).
WALLENSTEIN. Here is no every-day misunderstanding,
O! they force, they thrust me
DUCHESS (presses near to him, in entreaty).
0! if there yet be time, my husband ! if WALLENSTEIN. Nox she omitted it?
By giving way and by submission, this
Can be averted—my dear Lord, give way! DUCHESS (wiping away her tears, after a pause).. Win down your proud heart to it! Tell that heart, She did embrace me,
It is your sovereign Lord, your Emperor, But then first when I had already taken
Before whom you retreat. O let no longer My formal leave, and when the door already Low tricking malice blacken your good meaning Had closed upon me, then did she come out With venomous glosses. Stand you up In haste, as she had suddenly bethought herself,
Shielded and helm'd and weapond with the truth, And pressd me to her bosom, more with anguish
And drive before you into uttermost share Than tenderness.
These slanderous liars! Few firm friends have weWALLENSTEIN (seizes her hand soothingly). You know it -The swift growth of our good fortune
Nay, now collect yourself. It hath but set us up a mark for hatred.
Stand not before us?
I saw none.
Enter the Countess TERTsky, leading in her hand the
Princess THEKLA, richly adorned with Brilliants. Silent, silent!
COUNTESS, THEKLA, WALLENSTEIN, DUCHESS. WALLENSTEIN. These suns then are eclipsed for us. Henceforward How, sister! What, already upon business! Must we roll on, our own fire, our own light.
(Observing the countenance of the DUCHESS. DUCHESS.
And business of no pleasing kind I see,
This is thy daughter.
[THEKLA approaches urith a shy and timid air, and
bends herself as about to kiss his hand. He receives WALLENSTEIN (eagerly).
her in his arms, and remains standing for some Lamormain! what said he?
time lost in the feeling of her presence. DUCHESS. That you're accused of having daringly
WALLENSTEIN. O'erstepp'd the powers intrusted to you, charged
Yes! pure and lovely hath hope risen on me: With traitorous contempt of the Emperor
I take her as the pledge of greater fortune.
To raise up that great army for the Emperor :
Which whirl'd you headlong down at Regensburg. When you return'd home out of Pomerania, * And people talk, said he, of Ah!
Your daughter was already in the convent,